Twisted Desires
by Sweet Thang aka Harrys Crush
Summary: *Formally called 'Dreaming Your Fate'* Hey again! I have revised both of my chapters thanx to the motivation from my reviews..especially from DRD!!! Thankusooomuch :p : A story of two people colliding on a journey to save each other from the themselves!!!


A/N: hey everyone! As you may have noticedÉmaybe not, I have revised chapters one and two of this fic in progress. I sorted out all of my ideas and found the direction in which to take with thisÉI find my muse at lastÉehemÉanyways! I wish to thank Darogas Rainy Daae for that touching and helpful review to get my mooshy brain into some serious speedy gear! Thanx a bunch LOL And thank u to all the others who reviewed chapters one and two, you are the source of my inspiration! I changed the title as you may have noticed, and a lot of other things, but the names of the chapters remain the same, and the basic concept does too! Plz read ch. one and two again before proceeding to numero threeÉ

**Here is the new and revised chapter one of the fanfic formally called ÔDreaming your FateÕÉthe one you have to tell all of your friends and aquatances about..the oneÉ*clears throat* IÕll just get on with the story and shut up, how about thatÉ**

Twisted Desires 

**Chapter One-The Lonely thoughts of Miss Christine Da-ae**

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied him. From across the room through the dimly lit candlelight, my pupils rested upon one thing. He sat at the same table aloneÉalways alone. I quickly turned my head lest he look my way, of course he never does. Every time I come here, I see him, and every time I lose the silent battle to resist staring. 

I sipped a portion of my latte, flipping through the pages of the latest manuscript at my disposal.

ÒWhat the hellÉÓ I muttered, giving in once again, sighing as I turned my head to peer at the man. A waiter whose nameplate that registered ÔMattÕ tried unsuccessfully to grab my attention by catching my eyeÉit gets quite old after the tenth attemptÉ I assure you. 

I sighed again and sat low in my chair melting into the warmth of the fabric, relishing the comfort it gave me. At first glance this guy seemed quite ordinary. (Ordinary enough for a cafŽ.) He was adorned in all black, as he usually was; today wearing an expensive leather jacket, and jeans with dark suede shoes. He seemed quite out of touch with his surroundings, as if he were always mentally preoccupied with something else than the friendly chitchat all around. His eyes were a piercing blue, his hair a light brown, maybe dark blonde? It was always hard to tell in the lighting. 

His eyes were the center of my fascination. They seemed to hold a light of their own, a glimmer, a sheen foreign to those I knewÉwhich werenÕt many. That special quality was the only way I could so easily distinguish their color from the darkness. I had noticed him around on my second day here, in the CafŽ de la Parisian. He was nothing but a king to a commoner, always so silent and intimidating. There was absolutely no way I could approach him on my own, my father used to call me a dreamer with a wild imaginationÉIÕve found that to be more of a bother than a blessing.

No matter how hard I try, no matter how long I have pondered it, I have never determined his age! I would like to say early to late thirties, but then I think of his proud postureÉoh it is impossible to tell! Over the time I have gotten to know him from afar I have studied his manner with great interest, he seems to act much older than he could possible be; tall, lean well muscled bodies no not belong to middle aged men! I guess the mystery of it all is how he attracted me in the first place.

I really donÕt think he has ever looked my way; IÕm just a loner, a girl who seemingly has no social life and spends her time reading of operas, and other great musical phenomenonÕs of the past. Just invisible. Quiet Christine Da-ae who loved to dream of being taken someplace higher than a bird can soar, where the stars shineÉ

I know want to be a star. BroadwayÉmusicals, they are my lifeÉsinging is my life! I want be a leader, not the shadow in the dirt, but it seems that being a chorus girl, an extra and understudy is all I am ÔsuitableÕ for. I guess there is no reason to complain, I mean, it is enough to get by on in a city such as this. New York rates are for the rich, I should know. 

I spend as much of my time at the CafŽ de la Parisian as possible, my apartment is no spacious wonder; two rooms including the bathroom on the upper eastside of Manhattan is no beautyÉbut it is the home I have made for myself. I know I would find the place calming if it wasnÕt a constant reminder of my loneliness. At the end of the day, I simply get scared of the violent neighbors and rattled druggies hanging around the building.

I picked up the spiral-bound notebook I had been using as a journal and read through the first pages I had written in itÉ

Sometimes I wonder why I ever left the safe haven Paris was to me. Then I rememberÉFatherÉwhy? You said you would always be by my side, guiding me through the tough times. You said those words right after Mama passed away. But you left, and doing so, broke my soulÉour bond! Dying of heart failure in front of your fans, on a stage that held you and me on itÉin my arms you took your last breath. I sometimes wonder if you had been more silent to me in the years since Mama died than you have ever been now that you arenÕt here. You never told me you had that condition, you always kept everything to yourself!

Staring down at the notebook as I read through my very thoughts and feelings, I felt my heart contract in my chest. I didnÕt know I could still feel so much pain after so long. For two years I have been wondering the streets of the big apple; it felt like an eternity since my father left. 

I had tried out at an auditon a couple of months after the funeral to try and take my thoughts away from the painÉI guess my pain doubled after that. I wasnÕt good enough to get the leading positionÉI guess I must have been terrible; the woman who received it was a monster who had all the arrogance of a leech, and sung in such a way that I had to cover my ears to protect them from bursting. 

I didnÕt even think I would get a callback after that, but to the gratitude of Megan Green, a girl who was already a dancer and had some connections in the company, I was hiredÉthat is the call that saved my dignity. I donÕt know what sort of job I would have gotten if it hadnÕt been for Meg; I was desperate!

Whenever I have taken the time to think of my father, I have always come to the conclusion that he said he would be with me forever out of pity. He must have wanted more than anything to not even try and control his attacks, to be with the love of his life at last. Yes, that awful word pity is all I seem to give people the pleasure of feeling towards me. 

I think God must know what is in store for me; he must know the reason for me sitting alone in this crowded cafŽ, miserable. 

I think the real source of my attachment to this mystery man is the fact that no one seems to know who is he. No name, no clue as to what he does for a living, or where, or whom he goes home to at night. I only know that he has been coming for years. I tried to follow him one time, but a car alarm had gone off and I had turnedÉwhen I turned around he was gone.

I know deep in my scorched soul I need something to bring me out of the depths of despair. Something in my heart however smashed or broken it may be, tells me that this man is my fountain of knowledge. I am in a cage of solitary confinement, a creature with a shell too big to handle alone.

As I walked home through the dark alleys to my apartment (much later then I had anticipated) I had to stuff my hands into the warmth of my jacket to keep them from shakingÉdue to the cold or my state of mind, I had no clue. 

I knew I had had enough of it all, I needed someone to show me what it meant to live againÉsomeone to show me the light at the end of this long and dreary tunnel of hopelessness. 

The chilly October sky cast a silver sheen of misty fog through the air, painting shadows across the buildings through the moonlight. A drafty wind sent shivers down my neck, giving me goosebumps. 

I had never felt so alone.

**A/N: Hey again everyone! I have to say congrats to those who have chosen to read this first chapter of my work of art in progress LOL Yes, my dear friends, this is a AU of sorts. It is pretty much set in our time, and think of it as pretty much in the present, but I have added my own twists to the plot, and have made the story we all love my own, to do as I please. I really have no clue how it will turn out, as I read on someone elseÕs story, they said that their fingers just write, and see what comes of it! Thank you again to those who have taken the marvelous time to r/r! I am have removed my original first two chapters, and firstly replaced them with this, and will this weekend be hopefully posting chapters two and threeÉtwo will be pretty much the same. Again, just revised and slightly changed for you convenience and mine!!! I have one thing to say to you all: YoU rOcK mY wOrLd!!!!!!!!!!!!**


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